Tempest
by FABreader
Summary: International Rescue is famous for saving people from impossible situations. But what happens when a rescue doesn't go strictly according to plan? TV verse.


_**Author notes: **__This story was written for the TIWF ficswap Challenge in April 2013. The precis I was given was: "On the way to/during a rescue a critical piece of equipment goes wrong/breaks. It can be any piece of equipment, from one of the TB machines themselves to a pod vehicle or even a relatively 'small' item eg wrench, breathing kit, jack/lifting system etc. It matters not what it is. What matters is that, in this rescue, the piece of equipment is critical. Please let us see the results of this failure both to the rescue itself and to the members of IR" _

_I don't own anything pertaining to the "Thunderbirds", although I thank Gerry Anderson every day for giving life to his fantastic idea._

_A big thank you to my ever-patient beta for pointing out plot holes and inconsistencies. You've helped make this story so much better. _

* * *

_**Tempest**_

Tracy Island was shrouded in darkness, the glint of moonlight on the water playing over the waves as they rolled onto the shore. Even the solar garden lights had ceased to illuminate the pool and garden paths. Inside the house, its occupants were all asleep, deep within their REM cycles, some dreaming of things they wouldn't remember when awake, others reliving events from the past.

Thousands of miles overhead and a few hundred miles north, Thunderbird Five sat in her geostationary orbit over the equator. The main clocks were set to the South Pacific time zone she was aligned with. It was the same time zone as Tracy Island, the secret base of International Rescue. The lights in the primary monitor room were dimmed, but not extinguished. The volume of the radios was muted and the satellite's sole occupant sat hunched over the control panel, closely monitoring a weather radar image of the southern United States.

John Tracy, like his family, should have been asleep. But unlike his family he had seen the conditions deteriorating, had heard the forecasts and knew there was a more than even chance International Rescue could be needed.

So he sat and waited, patiently watching the storms brewing below.

* * *

The air had the glassy quality heraldic of an approaching storm. The leaves on the trees hung lifeless in the still air. A sense of unease and urgency quickened the steps of the three students as they hurried up the road and across a deserted parking lot.

A fringe of trees, massively broad in their age yet stunted by the pervasive wind, circled a large field at the summit of the hill. Sweat was wiped from brows as the students ran across the field, silencing the drone from unseen insects.

Dan, the tallest of the three, led the way through a line of trees to the lookout on the other side. A small concrete viewing platform encircled by a metal railing projected over the side of the cliff and overlooked the city spread out below. But today that image was all but obscured.

Dark menacing clouds, flat bottomed and heavy with rain lay low over the ground, but tower high into a tumultuous thunderhead overhead. Lightening sporadically illuminated the clouds from the inside and the horizon had the unmistakable green haze of hail.

"Awesome," Ritchie breathed, awestruck, and pushed his glasses more firmly on his nose. "We are so going to ace this project."

"_If_ we get the photos," Dan said as he wrangled a large camera from his backpack and checked the settings.

Kate set up a tripod as a sudden gust of wind buffeted the trio and set the foliage behind them rustling.

"Well, let's be quick about it," she said. "I don't want to be caught here when that hits."

The others agreed and they set to work capturing the images onto a digital photo chip. But despite working as quickly as they could, the storm moved faster than they had imagined. Lighting strikes peppered the ground, the wind gusts howled relentlessly ahead of it and day turned to night as they hurriedly loaded their gear into their backpacks. A more powerful wind gust caught Dan's cap, whipped it off his head, sent it swirling first one way then back and over the safety railing. It also caught Kate's lighter form and sent her staggering before she could regain her balance.

A loud crackling ripped through the air, a blue light lit the sky brighter than day and thunder boomed loud enough to shake the ground. Kate's scream was lost in the sound as a nearby tree exploded in a shower of sparks and flame, catapulting branches into neighbouring trees. One large branch narrowly missed Ritchie and hit the ground with enough force to crack the concrete. The platform shook again as the tree tilted in seemingly slow motion, arcing toward the three students. They scattered to the edges of the platform as the tree toppled, its root ball unearthing itself to expose a massive jumble of roots, dirt and leaf debris.

The trio were lucky to escape with little more than a few scratches as the tree smashed into the safety railing and flattened one section. But fortune soon turned sour when the ground lurched suddenly, free falling fifty feet to the steep slope below, taking the tree, lookout platform and all three students with it.

A sudden thump as they hit the ground, then they were tumbling end over down the slope, crashing through the underbrush. Eventually friction won over gravity and they ended their headlong rush on a small rocky outcrop.

They lay where they had fallen, bruised and bloodied but miraculously alive as debris settled around them. It was a while before their awareness returned.

Ritchie was flat on his back, looking up at the lowering clouds overhead and took stock. He ached all over and felt like every inch of him was bruised and battered. His glasses had fallen off, along with one of his shoes. His arm hurt more than the rest of him he squinted myopically at it. There was a long graze, but considering its size, it didn't seem to be bleeding too badly. He was pretty sure he was okay otherwise. Most importantly, his backpack was still hooked over his shoulder; he could feel its bulk as it lay underneath him. He breathed a sigh of relief; he was going to need it. More specifically, he was going to need what was in it.

He looked around for Kate and Dan; but without his glasses, everything was blurry. He could make out enough to realise that there was a mess of crumbled concrete and broken plants around him and a vast nothingness in front where he lay near the edge of the rock. He couldn't see anything that looked like his friends.

He heard rustling and moaning nearby, looked but couldn't make out who it was.

"Kate? Dan?" he called. "Are you guys okay?"

"Ritchie?"

It was a faint voice, but unmistakably Kate's. He turned his head this way and that, unable to see her. He called again.

"Kate? Where are you?" He listened closely to try and hear which direction she was in.

"Over here."

Her voice seemed only a short distance away, behind him and slightly higher up the slope. He picked his way carefully in that direction; carefully because he was afraid he might trip and send himself careening over the edge.

He found Kate tangled in a crop of bushes, mostly unhurt, at least as far as he could tell. She grabbed his hand and used it to prise herself into a sitting position away from the branches that snagged in her clothes and hair.

"Where's Dan?" she jerked her head in an anxious search for their friend.

Before Ritchie could reply, the sound of shifting dirt and tumbling stones preceded a low groan.

"Sounds like him," Ritchie said. "I'll go see. Are you okay?"

"My leg hurts, but check on Dan. I'll wait here."

Ritchie nodded and inched his way in the direction he'd heard the noise. He tripped on a tree root and sprawled on the ground; saw a foot in front of his face. He grabbed it, causing the owner to flinch, gasp and swear.

"Dan, there you are," Ritchie crawled up toward Dan's head; his face was coated in dirt and concrete dust, but it was the small slab of concrete lying across Dan's chest that caught his attention.

"Get this thing off me. It's hard to breathe," Dan gasped and coughed, his right hand pushing ineffectually at the concrete.

Ritchie could make out the shape of the slab and which way it would be easiest to remove it. So with Ritchie pulling and Dan pushing as much as he could with his hand, they soon tipped the slab off Dan's chest.

"Thanks, man" Dan coughed as concrete dust swirled and eddied around him, but Ritchie was staring at his friend.

"Looks like you've dislocated your shoulder."

"I thought so, I've done it before and it feels the same now," Dan felt his left arm gingerly. "I heard Kate before, is she okay?"

"Hurt her leg; don't know what's wrong with it yet."

"Help me sit up," Dan clutched his arm to his body as Ritchie helped him upright. He crossed Dan's arm carefully across his chest, hiked the T-shirt up and tucked it in securely around the arm.

"Okay Dan," Ritchie stood up then leaned over. "Put your good arm around my shoulders, I'll help you up. I think it'd be better if we all sat together."

"You've lost your glasses," Dan said after he was upright. "Can you see?"

"Some. You'll have to keep me away from the edge. Don't want to drop you over."

With Ritchie assisting Dan to walk, who in turn helped Ritchie navigate, they followed the sound of Kate's voice to where she was sitting.

They had just settled beside her when the first rain drops fell.

"Sorry guys," Dan said miserably. "It was my idea to come up here but I didn't know the road was closed. Otherwise, we could have gotten out of here before this happened."

"It's not your fault, Dan." Kate hunched her back against the increasing rain. "We all decided it was a good idea. And it was. This was just...I don't know… I never imagined something like this would happen."

"Looks like we'll be here at least until this storm blows over." Ritchie rummaged in his backpack and brought out a plastic tarpaulin. "Here, if we sit on one edge of this, it should be long enough to cover our backs and heads." He looked at the stunned faces before him and shrugged. "I was a boy scout in a previous life."

"Did your boy scout training extend to first aid?" Dan indicated his shoulder.

They had only just settled under the tarp when the heavens really opened. Rain came down in torrents; the wind lashed at the bushes and pushed the rain horizontal. The three huddled together, hoping the storm wouldn't get much worse. Then water came sluicing down the slope behind them, across the ledge and over the edge.

"I lost my backpack," Dan yelled to be heard over the howling of the wind and the lashing of the rain. "My cell phone was in it. Either of you got your phones? We need to call for help."

"I've got mine," Kate pulled her phone from her pocket and fiddled with the buttons. "Damn, no service. Don't know if it's the storm or we're just in a black spot."

Ritchie had his backpack nestled on his lap, safely out of the rain. "I've got something better than a phone," he said and rummaged inside his pack. He brought out something the others had never seen before and held it up triumphantly.

Kate looked at the black box. "That looks like that cell phone we saw in the museum that time. The one that looked like a brick."

"It's a radio."

"What?" Dan was incredulous. "Who uses radios these days?"

Ritchie smiled.

"International Rescue."

* * *

Thunderbird One slowed her speed as she dropped through the thick cloud cover, stretching her wings as if savouring the feel of the rain that hissed into steam on her superheated hull. Inside the cockpit, Scott Tracy frowned in concentration as he made minute adjustments to the yaw and pitch, keeping the craft steady in the wind gusts and downdrafts. He concentrated on his instruments, unable to see outside the viewing window as the torrential downpour turned visibility into a mere thought.

He activated the radio and contacted Thunderbird Five.

"What's up Scott?" John answered immediately.

"Have you been able to pinpoint the position of those kids yet? Visibility is pretty poor and this cliff is several miles long."

"Affirmative, Scott. I'm sending the coordinates to your onboard computer now."

"F.A.B." Scott slowed Thunderbird One to a relative crawl as he approached the cliff face and activated the thermal imaging camera. The cliff appeared on the screen in various shades of green, and he scanned the area for the heat signatures of the three students.

He saw them on the screen, huddled together at the exact co-ordinates John had relayed. He wanted to send the remote camera out, to get a visual on the kids, but the wind was too strong and the risk of crashing the camera too high. He set the spotlights on and contacted Thunderbird Five again.

"John, are you still in contact with those kids?"

"F.A.B., Scott. They heard you arrive and can see your lights."

"Any more on their injuries?"

"Negative. One dislocated shoulder, one possible broken leg, multiple abrasions and cuts."

"What's the latest on the wind?"

"Radar shows the storm is passing so the wind should drop off soon. There's a whole line of storms coming up fast behind it, though."

"F.A.B., John. Patch me through."

He heard a click then the sound of rain on heavy plastic filtered through the radio.

"This is Thunderbird One, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, hi, this is Ritchie."

"Are you people okay at the moment?"

"Cold and wet. Dan and Kate are in some pain though."

"Can they walk?"

"Dan can if I help him. Kate can't, she's hurt her leg."

"Our rescue equipment will be here soon and we'll get you off there. Sit tight, I'm going to check the terrain above."

"Okay mister."

Scott flicked off the radio and sent Thunderbird One slowly traversing up the cliff. The powerful lights illuminated the scene, revealing the extent of the damage. The rock had fractured at the top of the cliff and a long raw scar showed where the entire lookout and several trees had slid down the slope. Looking at it now, Scott was amazed at how lucky the students had been. The ledge they were on was the only one he could see, with steep drops on either side and below.

He activated the radio again and contacted Virgil.

"Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird One. What's your ETA?"

"We're five minutes away. What's the situation, Scott?"

"The kids are stuck on a ledge about twenty feet by fifty. Ground above looks to be fairly stable. The wind shear is making conditions dicey but we have a short opportunity to get them out before the next storm hits. The winds are dropping so we should be able to use the rescue capsule. Two of the kids are mobile, one isn't."

"F.A.B. Scott. Be with you in four and one half minutes. Thunderbird Two out."

Scott could see Thunderbird Two approaching on his radar, so he contacted first Ritchie then John and updated them. By the time Virgil steered the huge green ship into position, the rain had eased to a light drizzle, but Scott was happier to note that the wind had abated enough to make the use of the rescue capsule safe.

Inside the winch bay in Thunderbird Two's nose cone, Gordon had finished the checks and Alan was in the capsule ready to be lowered down to the ledge. Neither spoke, focused as they were on their role in the upcoming mission.

"We're in position. Are you ready down there?" Virgil's voice came down from the cockpit radio.

"F.A.B." Gordon said.

"F.A.B." Alan echoed.

"I'll hold her steady here, go when ready."

Gordon opened the winch bay doors and the cold air rushed in. Below, the light had improved with the thinner cloud cover and lighter rainfall, but Scott was still illuminating the area with Thunderbird One's spotters.

"Lower away, Gordon," Alan's voice came through Gordon's earphones.

"Lowering... now," he replied and set the winch to slow.

The big winch lowered the rescue capsule and once it was clear of Thunderbird Two's protection, the breeze caught it and set it swaying. Alan held on inside, assessed the angle of swing, found it acceptable.

"Rack it up a couple of clicks, Gordon."

"F.A.B. Powering up...now."

A rogue gust of wind caught the capsule, sent it spinning and swaying wildly. The winch computer sensed the motion and locked down automatically, leaving the capsule dangling like a spider on a web.

"Alan! Are you okay?" Gordon watched as the capsule lurched and swung below.

"I'm okay," was the welcome response. "Bit of a wild ride but it's stopping now." The weight of the capsule had helped slow the gyrations until it was once again hanging docilely at the end of the cable. "Okay, Gordon. Let's go again."

Gordon checked the computer and its row of green lights before starting the controls again.

"Ahead slow," he said.

The cable played out slowly then jerked to a sudden stop.

"Whoa, amber lights," Gordon alerted them to a problem with the computer. "I'll run a fast check."

But at that moment, the winch started up. Cable rushed out unchecked at full speed, then jerked to a halt.

"Gordon! What the hell's going on?" Alan's voice was urgent as he picked himself off the floor of the capsule where the sudden deceleration had forced him.

"What happened with the winch?" Scott demanded.

Gordon looked at the string of red lights in dismay, then olfactory synapses fired and he sniffed the air.

"Guys, I think the motor's burnt out."

"Say again, Gordon," Scott questioned as he watched the capsule carefully.

"I've got red lights on the alarms..."

"Copy the red up here too," Virgil chimed in from Two's cockpit.

"...and I can smell it," Gordon closed the discussion definitively.

"Brilliant," Alan's voice dripped with sarcasm. "How are we going to get those kids now? And more importantly, how am I supposed to get out of here?"

Scott thought quickly and made a decision.

"Virgil, there's a large clearing at the top of the cliff. Head up there, and descend until the capsule is near the ground. Alan, you jump out, clear the area so Two can land. Keep the radio open, Virgil. John?" Scott looked to the monitor where John held a set of earphones to his right ear and was focused on another screen. He looked up, pushed a button on the console and re-activated audio.

"Scott?"

"We need a conference with base, and contact those kids and tell them we'll be back soon," he commanded.

"Already done. In fact, the kids just contacted me. Wanted to know if everything is okay. Opening conference call...now."

As soon as the connect ion was made, Scott updated their father who took immediate control.

"Gordon, how bad is the winch?"

"The motor's completely shot, Dad," Gordon's voice came over the air. "But no fire hazard."

"Alright, we'll worry about the whys and wherefores later. For now, what are our options? Can we do a manual evac?"

"Negative," Scott said as he checked the thermal images of the teenagers. "There's no time. We'd have to make a minimum of two trips down and back. There's a line of storms coming up fast and according to the local radar, they're stronger than the last one."

"The conditions are worse than first thought," John confirmed. "The next storm is moving more rapidly, with stronger wind gusts, hail and a possibility of tornados. The students have deteriorated as well. One of the injured is now unconscious, so that gives us one ambulant, not two."

"What about the local authorities, John," Jeff suggested. "Are they able to send a crew to help?"

"That's a negative too. The hospital was hit by lightening which shorted out the electrics and the UPS. Spot fires have been dealt with but they're evacuating the entire complex. That's the worst hit, but there's widespread damage throughout the city. The army has already mobilized to help them, so we're on our own."

"Do they need us, John?"

"Not yet, Dad. They said they'd let us know."

"Alright, keep me posted. Back to these students. Any suggestions?"

"We need to use the rescue capsule. It's the safest option," Alan chimed in from the rescue capsule, still dangling at the end of the cable.

"But we can't use it, Alan," Gordon insisted. "The motor is unusable and the computer shut itself down. Even if the motor worked, we couldn't over-ride the computer until it's had a major diagnostic."

"What about the portable winch in Thunderbird One?" Scott asked. "Could we rig it up in Thunderbird Two, attach the capsule to it instead?"

"Possibly." Virgil frowned past the rain as he traversed Thunderbird Two up the cliff. "But would it be strong enough? It's used for manual evacs only, and the capsule is pretty heavy."

"Good point, Virgil." Jeff turned away from the monitor, looked at someone nearby. "Brains, what's your assessment?"

"Ah, w-well, ah Mister Tracy," Brains, though unseen, could be heard clearly. "The, ah, the p-portable has proved reliable in, in the, ah, the past, but we can't be sure how much extra weight can take."

"Remember that earthquake in Guatemala last year?" Scott pointed out. "When that bus full of school kids fell into a sinkhole and we had to use the winch to haul a truck off it so we could get the kids out. "

"That's ah, that's right, Scott," Brains agreed, leaning over Jeff's shoulder so he could be seen on the monitors. "I, ah, estimate that the truck weighed about the same as the capsule, but the capsule will be ah, fully loaded."

"Are you saying it won't be safe?" Jeff cut in.

"But what about friction?" Scott persisted. "The cable had to pull that bus up and then over the lip of the sinkhole, then across the ground. Wouldn't the friction be counted as extra weight? The capsule will just be going down and up."

All eyes turned to Brains, watched his face twitch as he thought. Finally he pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded.

"It, ah, it's possible. But I cannot, ah, say for sure."

"Duly noted, Brains," Jeff drummed his fingers on his desk for a beat. "Scott, can you winch Alan down without the capsule and bring the kids up in the baskets?"

"Not with that wind," Alan interjected. "It was pushing the capsule around pretty badly. Without the extra weight of the capsule, we'd get blown all over the place."

"I agree," Scott nodded. "It wouldn't be safe. We'd also need to do three trips to evacuate everyone safely and after we re-rig the winch, we'll be out of time."

"The kids have already got broken bones," Gordon added. "Winching them up in just the basket is just asking for trouble. We need to use the capsule."

Jeff stood, looked at each of his sons in turn. "All right boys. Opinions."

"We don't have a choice," Scott said as he followed Thunderbird Two up to the field. "The more time we spend talking about it now, the less time we'll have to effect a rescue. Those kids need to be brought up now, and we need to use the capsule. What do you think, Virgil?"

"I say we go for it. But since we'll need two rescue litters now instead of one, it's up to Gordon and Alan; they'll be the ones in the capsule."

"I'm game," Gordon said. "Al?"

"What's the latest on the wind, John?" Alan asked, seeking reassurance.

"It's dropped a bit more but that's about as slow as it's going to get," John confirmed. "The next storm is due to hit in an hour. Possibly sooner."

"All right then," Jeff gave the order. "Go ahead and use the portable. But keep in touch."

A chorus of F.A.B.'s echoed as the order was acknowledged.

Virgil hovered Thunderbird Two over the field, then lowered her great bulk until the capsule was a few feet off the ground. Alan jumped, rolled and sped to the edge of the clearing.

"Clear to land, Virgil," he said.

The capsule tipped sideways, the winch cable coiling on top of it as Two settled on the ground. Thunderbird One settled alongside and they hurried to carry out their orders. Scott retrieved the portable winch from Thunderbird One while the others disconnected the capsule, wound up the existing cable and secured into the winch bay. It took a concerted effort by all four brothers to secure the portable onto the larger winch's support struts and then attach the capsule onto the steel cable. Virgil left the others to finish loading extra equipment into the capsule and made his way back to the cockpit.

The engines rumbled, fired and hefted the huge machine into the air. Virgil steered it over the trees, down the scree slope and executed a textbook turn to bring the nose around to face the rock wall.

"We're in position," he said into the microphone. "Are you ready?"

Gordon and Alan gave the thumbs up from inside the capsule.

"We're ready," Scott announced from his place manning the winch.

"John," Virgil keyed in to Thunderbird Five. "Are the kids ready?"

"Affirmative."

"Okay, Scott, lower away."

"F.A.B." Scott opened the bay doors, scanned the cliff to check they were in position. Thunderbird Two's flood lights lit up the danger zone as clearly as if the sun had been shining. "Lowering capsule...now."

As the winch played out the cable, Scott kept one eye on the controls, the other on the capsule descending smoothly to the ledge below. He watched closely as the cable unwound, judged the length remaining against the distance still to travel. This was going to be tight.

Too tight.

He stopped the winch when there was only half a loop remaining on the spool.

"Gordon, Alan, how far away from the ledge are you?"

"About ten feet," Gordon's voice fought with the wind buffeting into his own microphone.

"Virgil," Scott switched the radio to connect with the cockpit. "We're out of cable. Can you get us any lower?"

"How far?"

"Ten feet."

"I'll try, Scott," Virgil eyed the slope outside the cockpit. It was uncomfortably close. The leading edge of Two's nose was almost scraping the rock now. "Ten feet," he murmured to himself and ignored the screeching of the proximity alarm. All his concentration was focused on manoeuvring his 'bird.

"Close enough, Virgil," Alan announced. "Hold her steady."

Sweat beaded on Virgil's forehead as he fought to do just that. He gripped the yoke tightly, monitored his instruments constantly, while keeping a wary eye on the rock wall outside the windshield.

Alan and Gordon grabbed the Stokes litters, jumped onto the ledge and made their way over to where the students were. Two were still huddled under the tarp; the other was standing to greet them. He was wet, bedraggled, covered in a myriad of small scratches and inexplicably barefoot.

"Are you Ritchie?" Gordon asked as he set a litter on the ground and opened the straps.

"Boy, am I glad to see you," Ritchie nodded "This is Dan and Kate."

Dan was lying on his side, awake but groggy. His arm bound to his side with a scarf. Kate was sitting up, face pale and pinched with pain. One leg was splinted with tree branches and socks.

That explained the bare feet, Gordon thought, impressed with Ritchie's improvisation.

"Is this your work?" he indicated the improvised first aid.

"Yeah," Ritchie nodded.

"Good job." Alan seemed impressed as well.

A bolt of lightning ripped overhead accompanied by a sonic boom of thunder. Fat raindrops fell on the group, solid raindrops that stung their skin, bounced on the ground.

Hail.

"Guys!" Virgil interrupted urgently over the radio. "The wind is picking up. If you don't get back in the next couple of minutes, you won't get back at all."

"We're on it," Alan replied. "We've got hail."

"We've got to go," Gordon said and spread out a thermal blanket. "No time for niceties like pain relief, I'm afraid. That will have to wait until we get you into Two."

No-one disagreed; the three students were more than ready to leave the cliff ledge. Both Dan and Kate were man-handled gently but quickly onto into the litters and strapped in. Despite the careful handling, they both cried out in pain.

"Sorry guys," Gordon said securing the safety straps. "We'll make this as quick as we can."

While Alan and Gordon ferried Dan to the capsule and locked the litter into place, Ritchie held the tarp over himself and Kate in an attempt to protect them from the hail. While still fairly small and sparse, it was increasing rapidly.

Gordon and Alan returned with their safety helmets on, lifted Kate's litter and headed for the rescue capsule. Ritchie followed behind until they were ten feet from the edge. He stopped, staring at the drop off and the capsule hanging a couple feet off the ground. It swayed slightly in the wind, the hail pinging loudly on the metal sides.

"Come on, Ritchie," Gordon yelled over another thunderclap. "We have to go. Now!"

Ritchie shook his head. "I...can't."

"We're not kidding," Alan yelled over his shoulder. "It's too dangerous to stay."

"He's lost his glasses," Kate explained. "He can't judge distances very well.

"Grab the back of my shirt," Alan nodded in understanding. "You can follow me."

Ritchie did so gratefully, glad the men from International Rescue seemed to understand.

In single file they reached the rescue capsule where Kate was loaded on. Gordon and Alan both helped Ritchie in and then squeezed in after him as the hail thundered down. A few large stones clattered onto the floor before Gordon got the door closed. Alan contacted Scott.

"Locked and loaded. Haul us up."

Scott's F.A.B. was almost lost in the din of the hail smashing into the sides of the capsule. A small jerk and gentle swaying told they were being winched up into the bay of Thunderbird Two. Alan and Gordon stared out of the small porthole at the ledge receding slowly. Too slowly. It was much slower than their descent had been. Was the portable winch powerful enough to pull the fully loaded capsule to safety?

A sudden jerk caught everyone by surprise.

Kate screamed, Ritchie fell in a heap on the floor, Alan and Gordon almost fell as well, but had been able to brace their hands on the walls. They didn't need to look out of the window to know they were spinning around, swinging in the breeze. The jerking of the cable was transmitted through the walls and floor until it resonated with the vibrations.

Dan's "What's happening" was lost over the sound of Scott's voice over the internal radio.

"Is everyone all right down there?"

"We're fine," Gordon answered after a quick check. "What's going on up there?"

"We had to move away from the rocks in a hurry. You're almost here; when you get closer I'll slow it down to let the spinning settle. We don't want you to knock into the hull."

The noise of the hail on the sides of the capsule abated as they reached the protection of Thunderbird Two's nose. The lightning flashed, thunder roared albeit muffled and the wind gusted, but they had already passed through the hatch into the calm of the winch bay. Scott closed the bay doors and hydraulic plates, previously hidden under the circular walkway closed around the base of the capsule, locking it into place. He then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Locked up, Virgil." Scott approached the capsule door as Gordon opened it from the inside. "All indicator lights green."

"F.A.B. Copy green."

The engines powered up, Thunderbird Two climbed into the air and once again landed in the grassy clearing. By the time Virgil had the engines shut down and made his way to the medical bay, the others were already inside.

He turned the thermostat to a higher temperature, even from the doorway he could see the three students shivering. Kate and Dan lay on beds where vents poured warm air over them while Ritchie huddled under a thermal blanket. Scott was preparing pain relief, Gordon was checking vital signs and Alan was gathering equipment. They all looked up from their work and he shared a congratulatory smile. It was all they would allow themselves until they were back at base.

With the four brothers working together, it wasn't long before IV's had been inserted, wounds tended and bodies warmed up. Dan and Kate were sitting up in their beds, and like Ritchie, had a hot drink in hand. They were looking around the medical bay and at the members of International Rescue with unabashed curiosity.

At Virgil's prompting, they relayed how the lightning strike caused the tree to collapse which resulted in the lookout platform collapsing from underneath them. They laughed over Ritchie's self description of being a boy scout, but he sheepishly admitted he went camping with his dad a lot.

"What I don't get," Virgil said. "Is what you kids were doing up there when there was a storm brewing?"

Dan shrugged, sighed. "We were trying to get photos of the storm for a college project. But I didn't know the road was closed for repairs and we had to walk the last five miles. That's why we were up there so late. If we'd driven up, we would have finished sooner, or at least had the car to hole up in."

"Where's your camera?" Gordon looked around. "I don't remember seeing it."

"Lost it when we fell. It was in my backpack along with my phone and car keys. We only had Ritchie's backpack and Kate's cell phone."

"Lucky we had Richie's backpack," Kate added. "Otherwise we could have been there for days."

"Pity we lost the photos though," Ritchie lamented.

Dan looked at his friends unhappy faces and grinned while Alan's suggestion that maybe he'd had enough pain relief made him laugh. He laughed until he coughed and the pain that tore through his shoulder quelled it.

"Sorry," he said, mouth twitching again.

"What's so funny, Dan?" Kate frowned. "I don't think losing those pictures is anything to laugh about."

Dan stuck his hand in his pocket, pulled out a small computer chip and held it up.

"Seems Ritchie isn't the only Boy Scout, I've still got them."

"Not so fast," Scott stood and held out his hand for the computer chip. "We'll have to check that you don't have any photos of the Thunderbirds or our equipment on there. I'll need to check your phones as well."

"But it was in my pocket," Dan explained. "And the camera was in my back pack and I don't know where it ended up."

"Maybe so, but I still need to make sure before we get you to the hospital." He looked at the three crestfallen faces in front of him. "I want you to do well on your project, but I need to assure our Commander that our security hasn't been compromised. If I don't check, he'll give me an 'F' on this mission. Don't worry, you'll get them back before you leave here."

"Awesome!" Ritchie high fived Kate and grinned at Dan. "We are so going to ace this project!"


End file.
